وَحَبيبand a beloved مُكللcrowned بِعُيونwith eyes
وَحَبيب مُكلل بِعُيون
جَعلتmade طَوقهُhis necklace اللَياليthe nights يَمينيmy right hand
جَعلت طَوقهُ اللَيالي يَميني
And a beloved crowned with eyes—
Roses are roses,
The nights made my right hand his necklace.
Violets are blue,
يَشتَكيhe complains مِنfrom الغَضاضةdelicacy حَتّىeven
يَشتَكي مِن الغَضاضة حَتّى
لَوif جَعَلتI made الفِراشthe bed مِنof ياسمينjasmine
لَو جَعَلت الفِراش مِن ياسمين
In his delicacy, he complains, even
I'll translate poems,
If I made the bed of jasmine.
Simply for you.
Sol 6.1